


Wilt, My Flower

by Noodles_Uber_Alles



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Cicero is also a weenie and also my favorite, Eventual Smut, F/M, For the empire, Imperials need loving, Marcurio is a weenie and my favorite follower, Slight Marcurio
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-26
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-03-19 17:07:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3617622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noodles_Uber_Alles/pseuds/Noodles_Uber_Alles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the black sacrament is performed against you, you're screwed. Even if it doesn't kill you, it WILL haunt you and RUIN you. When Zemfira experiences the latter, she goes from feeling obligated to hold of high morals as the dragonborn to abandoning it all together. The Dark Brotherhood may have been a forced decision but the feelings in her heart are completely hers.</p><p>Will loosely follow the original story line, the start however, will be different and converge at a later moment.</p><p>-Rating subject to change due to possible smut-<br/>I do not own skyrim or its characters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Fool

**Author's Note:**

> So this was originally going to be a reader insert but because doing so is tedious in my opinion, I just threw in my OC. Alter the story where you see appropriate but PLEASE do not plagiarize this work.
> 
> Input is very much appreciated, I'm open to criticism and ideas or just plain old complements.

A bottle of mead had never been so desperately needed in Zemfira’s life before. Even as a person who swore to themselves to never allow the liquid to touch her tongue, it felt appropriate. Her usual companion, Marcurio, or the Snarky Asshole, as she often referred to him as, had triggered yet another argument. Well- It was her fault to some extent, the pair often butt heads due to their similar personalities. The most obvious being their mouth, oh how Zemfira and Marcurio could go on and on with their sarcasm. Today pushed the line however and the two argued, they’d recover after a few days. They always did.  
  
With a mug and a bottle not so gently placed in front of her, She proceeded to ignore the mug completely and managed to down the entire bottle despite how much she thought it burned. It didn’t take too long for Marcurio to leave her thoughts as a gentle hum filled her head, leaving a warm, fuzzy, feeling. Just what she needed. With her head now spinning due to low tolerance, Zemfira paid her tab and unsteadily made for the door of the bee and barb. Tonight was beautiful, making a walk in the woods sound nice despite how foolish it would be while inebriated. She knew full well of what was out there but the alcohol clouded her judgement and not even the feeling of being watched for weeks could deter her.  
  
The guards paid no mind to the imperial as she unsteadily walked along the path before going off it and straight into the forest. The lack of dragons, the clear sky, and the chilly air made a deadly combination with the alcohol flowing through her veins; It put her at ease- Which would perhaps turn into a near-fatal mistake. Anyone could have noticed how defenseless she was, which was not normal for her. Her guard was always up. Always.  
  
Zemfira continued to watch the sky, completely enamored with its beauty. The visually appealing sight was short-lived however, thanks to a spontaneous engagement with the ground. A searing pain in her ankle made itself known through the numbing alcohol causing her to swear out loud. She looked to the ankle in question to see it twisted unnaturally by the root that caught her foot. It held her attention briefly before something else caught her attention. She swore she saw someone dart from behind a tree... Maybe she hit her head hard as well and was just hallucinating.  
  
What Zemfira did next made her more of a fool than going out in forest alone and drunk did. She dropped her head, allowing her cheek to make contact with the cold dirt. She could’ve fallen asleep despite the pain and she almost did, that is… until some flips her on her back and pins her firmly to the ground. Zemfira instantly started struggling but her drunken resistance did nothing for her, only tightened the grip on her wrists that had been forcibly moved above her head.  
  
Zemfira opened her eyes and jolted upon meeting the crazed eyes of a man she had never seen in her life. The grin he bore could have made her vomit- it almost did as bile rose to her throat. He was close enough to the point his somewhat grubby red hair brushed against her dirt caked cheek. Noticing the fright in her eyes, he laughed and went for the dagger strapped to his waist. At that moment, reality came back in the form of a shout, a Loud, and deadly shout.  
  
“FUS RO DAH!”  
  
The force flung her assailant far enough to give her time to get up and run (more like limp) with both battle axes drawn for good measure. The man was too fast though, getting close enough to jam the dagger into her thigh. Zemfira’s face met the dirt for the third time that night and she was pinned for a second time. She managed to briefly wiggle an arm free to reach for her weapons but they had been kicked out of reach. Using his legs to pin her arms down, he used one hands to hold her head to the ground and the other to forcefully rip the dagger from her thigh. A scream ripped from her throat and her attacker laughed aloud.  
  
“Pretty… pretty.” He sang, lifting the dagger above his head to finish the deed.  
  
“Feim zii gron…” She forced from her lips, turning ethereal much to the man’s displeasure. She was untouchable now, if only for a few short moments.  
  
“Why are you doing this?” She rasped, hoping to have enough time to get answers before she becomes vulnerable again.  
  
“The sacrament!” He squealed, “The pretender said you were to die and poor old Cicero couldn’t resist! The dragonborn! Oh how Cicero has dreamed of stab stab stabbing the dragonborn! It took some begging to get the contract but here Cicero is! Hahahaha~”  
  
“That would be a stupid decision.” She grumbled. The man, Cicero, ceased laughing and looked at her with a deep frown. Zemfira winced as he pull her head off the ground by her hair.  
  
“Look behind you.” She snorted. So much for an assassin… what assassin doesn’t remain aware of their surroundings? Cicero turned and noticed the dragon soaring above them. HOW did he not SEE or HEAR that? Noting his distraction, Zemfira shoved Cicero off of her and dragged herself to her weapons. She grabbed her steel arrows and her imperial bow, ignoring her melee weapons due to impracticality.  
  
Knocking an arrow, she pulled back and shot at the dragon. What might have been an excellent idea turned into a terrible one as the dragon went for her. She was accustomed to slaying dragons, but slaying them alone was something she had zero experience with and her injuries only added to the issue. If they didn’t get burnt into a crisp, she’d take extra time dismantling the bastard even if it was against her nature.  
  
The dragon was all the more menacing as it grew dangerously close and had Zemfira not been prodigy of maintaining composure, she would have used every last one of her 60+ arrows in a matter of seconds. Ignoring Cicero, who had gotten up, and made the dragon his new priority, Zemfira released several more arrows. Having the experience of multiple dragon slayings, it was easy to tell the dragon was giving its last attempts at killing the two.  
  
Zemfira held the dragon’s attention for the entire battle until it turned to Cicero and went to grab him with its teeth. Growling at the dragon she aimed for its head (Which in most cases is useless) and released an arrow whilst screaming “That’s MY kill” all the while. It was rather majestic Cicero had to admit, admirable even- shame she was supposed to be dead. The arrow, by miracle, ran itself straight through the eye, thoroughly killing it. Cicero did a little jig, until he realized his target was beginning to sink to the ground. He barely caught his fellow imperial and target who collapsed to the ground in both exhaustion and blood loss.  
  
For Zemfira, who was now caught in a sudden spurn of ill fortune, Cicero and his dagger were her last sight before passing out.


	2. The Debt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zem is a little whiney-butt.
> 
> I do not own the dark brotherhood dialogue, that goes to Bethesda.

_Cheydinhal was always so nice around this time of year, if only she could stay longer… Zemfira looked back at the once thriving shop her father ran, now closed, and all because he chose to join the legion. She and her only surviving relative, her mother, were to relocate to Bravil, the only place they could afford to reside in. Her mother seemed almost as distraught as her, only there was something more to it, something she refused to speak of. After arriving in Bravil, Zemfira couldn’t shake off the look her mother had when she laid her eyes upon lady luck. It was of silent hatred._  
  
Zemfira twitched, the amount of pain she felt in her thigh was indescribable. Had there not been a rag in her mouth, she would have screamed. Zemfira held her eyes closed tightly, overcoming a wave of pain that wracked her body.  
  
“You’re kidding. Right?” She heard a childish voice say in a not so amused manner. Zemfira froze.  
  
“Joking? You think Cicero is… Joking?!” A more high pitched, familiar voice replied.  
  
“I think you would be better off feeding her to Lis.” The voice proposed. What? Feed who? Zemfira mentally questioned herself.  
  
“To Lis!” A sort of gagging noise followed, “You aren’t serious are you unchild?”  
  
“Do I look like I’m joking? Besides, I’m an alchemist. Not a healer.”  
  
“Cicero knows! But all Cicero wants is to fix her!” He whined.  
  
“And who are we ‘fixing’?” Another feminine voice cut in from behind. At that point Zemfira opened her eyes to meet the stares of the one she presumed was the ‘Unchild’ and the one who even got her in this mess. Zemfira twisted her head uncomfortably, finding a not so happy woman staring down at her.  
  
“I can’t believe you-“ She began only to get cut off.  
  
“Cicero thinks this one is different!” Cicero interjected.  
  
“She’s still our problem, we were to dispose of her and instead she’s here.” The woman said harshly, “Did the initial destruction of the Dark brotherhood teach you nothing?”  
  
“Cicero knows!” He shot back “And Cicero is sorry. This girl, the Dragonborn, saved poor old Cicero’s life and has done mother a great service!” The woman twitched in annoyance upon hearing the fact, she, in all honesty, would have been keener on sparing the girl had he died in her stead.  
  
“I was going to kill you anyways” Zemfira tried to say through the gag, producing nothing but garbage in the end. Cicero looked down at her with a smile, but not one she would ever consider sincere.  
  
“Finish her.” The woman said with authority. Zemfira watched the woman and Cicero, also noting the absence of the child… It was a child right? Both of them held their ground, both of them were determined to win.  
  
“Don’t you think mother would be displeased if we were to… kill the one who saved her child?”  
  
The woman shifted uncomfortably, eyeing Zemfira inquisitively. Zemfira in turn, made herself as small as possible. Funny how someone who slays dragons for a means of living can become so docile. Shrinking was hard however, seeing as the pain in her leg made moving difficult, triggering her to break out into a cold sweat. After what seemed like an eternity, the woman came to a decision,  
  
“Fine. If she can complete the little ‘test’ I have in mind, then she can stay, if she fails, I kill her. Fair enough?”  
  
Cicero did a little jig “Oh yes. Yes! This pleases both mother and Cicero greatly!”  
  
Tossing a red bottle to Cicero, the woman said, “Make sure she can walk” before exiting the room at a brisk pace.  
  
Clutching what looked like a healing potion, Cicero pulled the stopper and gingerly picked up Zemfira’s head. He removed the gag and forced the liquid down her throat. She in turn, cooperated, lacking the energy fight back or protest. For a second time in several days, Zemfira passed out.  
  
...   
Moving around was far easier than it had been when she first woke up in a room of potential murderers. Zemfira hadn’t recovered much in the last few hours but the unbearable pain had become dull and tolerable. Opening her green, hazel flecked eyes, much to her disdain, she was in a strange place with strange people. She slowly sat up to see where exactly she was now. After several glances it wasn’t hard to tell that the place was abandoned as it was a wreck, save for the 3 bound and hooded people at the other end of the shack.  
  
“Sleep well?” A voiced purred from the corner of the room Zemfira was closest to. She whipped around instinctively, noticing the shrouded female perched on top of a shelf. Well shit.  
  
“Who are you and what do you want?” Zemfira growled.  
  
“There’s a slight… problem.” She cooed.  
  
“A problem?”  
  
“You see… You are here for your chance on keeping your life… But…You are by all rights, a Dark Brotherhood contract. A kill… that you will have stolen.” She paused briefly, “A kill you must repay.”  
  
“Kill who?” Zemfira asked, already showing reluctance in the task given to her.  
  
“Well now. Funny you should ask…” Zemfira could barely see a smile through the shroud of her armor, “If you turn around, you’ll notice my guests. I’ve collected them from… well, that’s really not important. The here and now. That is what matters.” Zemfira arched a brow.  
  
“You see, there’s a contract out on one of them, and that person can’t leave this room alive. But... which one? Go on… See if you can figure it out.”  
  
Zemfira shook her head, “I will not kill without reason.” She protested, reaching for her weapons without realizing they had been taken away for good measure. The woman laughed at her, agitating the imperial who was with good reason, far from happy.  
  
“If you do not kill one, then I will enjoy taking what rightfully belongs to the void.”  
  
Zemfira fidgeted, obviously battling her own conscious and good morals in the situation she got herself in. Perhaps she could just kill them all… Commander Maro had sought her out personally, just to carry out the task. Wait… there was an issue though, there is no doubt that she’d be killed before the attempt was even made.  
  
“Make your choice. Make your kill. I just want to observe… and admire.” The woman said in a sultry tone, ignoring the reluctance of Zemfira. “I can do this all day…”  
  
Zemfira took a step forward, ignoring the dagger that was offered to her. She stood before the three and watched them. While two begged for their life, the Khajjit seemed unfazed, almost to the point it bothered her. She took a step towards the Khajjit, and exhaled. Let’s just get this over with… Grasping both sides of his head, she jerked it sideways, confirming the kill with a sickening crack.  
  
Zemfira backed away and looked to the other two, perhaps she had been too hasty? Why did she have to let the Khajjit die just because his ability to remain calm was too much? She was unfair. She let a potentially innocent being die, and a potentially guilty being live. She had to set it straight and make it fair. Trying her best to ignore the other two’s pleading, she treated them the same way she treated the Khajjit. A brisk little twist and it was over. Surprisingly, Zemfira kept herself calm, not a single tear of regret escaped even if it tried so desperately to.  
  
“That was entertaining…” The woman cooed. Zemfira turned to her in anger,  
  
“So who was it? Who had the contract?”  
  
“Ahhoho~. No no no. Don’t you understand guilt… innocence… right? Wrong. Irrelevant. What matters is I ordered you to kill someone and you obeyed.”  
  
Zemfira frowned, “Can I go now?”  
  
The woman chuckled, “Go? No. You are with us now. I cannot trust you to not come back with trouble. So here’s the deal, you serve the Dark Brotherhood and you will live. Tell or leave and I will make sure you are… dealt with. Do we have a deal?”  
  
It was hardly worth staying or leaving and her hands were already soiled, there was nothing to lose.  
  
“I guess we do” Zemfira sighed heavily.  
  
“Good. Now here is the key to the shack. The Dark Brotherhood is located in southwest regions of Skyrim. In the pine forest you’ll find the sanctuary to our home. When questioned by the black door, answer with the correct passphrase, ‘Silence my Brother’.”  
  
Zemfira remained silent.  
  
“Now I will be expecting you, and do remember what happens if you fail to show.” With that, the woman left, leaving Zemfira to deal with the rollercoaster ahead. If she were to get out of this sane, it would be a miracle.


	3. Unwavering Hesitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zemfira doesn't like to listen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I BET YOU WEREN'T EXPECTING THIS.  
> Especially after like- what? Almost two years.  
> I deeply apologize for forcing you to wait an obnoxiously long time for an update.  
> I'm sorry it took Anon asking for an update to pull my head out of my ass and finally write this...  
> I may make a few minor changes later (I'm never happy with my writing as a perfectionist and I want to deliver not half-assed works) but for now, enjoy!
> 
> NOTE: If you have not already figured it out, I am VERY slow at updating this but I have not forgotten about it. I just have a lot on my plate. Chapter four should have been posted by now but my laptop's hard drive got corrupted. I now have a laptop again and can try to update (2/19/18)

_Zemfira was still relatively young when the strange men started harassing her mother. At first they came only after the sun had disappeared but soon they came at all times of the day, and her mother always succeeded at scaring them off. Even from the hiding spot her mother stuffed her in before opening the door, she could see the men… and her mother… who for some unusual reason, happened to be startlingly skilled with a knife._

The Wagon ride from Solitude to Riften was very taxing on Zemfira’s already deteriorating mental state. What had occurred within the past few days, was almost too much, having killed three potentially innocent people in a matter of seconds and having her life repeatedly threatened. The fact her life was still at risk, was already enough but it was perhaps self-inflicted-

Zemfira had no intention of following the instructions given to her. 

She didn’t want to see the stupid woman who forced her hand, or the unchild. Or more importantly, the frighteningly cheerful red-headed asshole, Cicero. He’s the one who got her into this mess and if the time ever came, she wouldn’t mind offing the creep. Sigh. Zemfira needed to stop, obsessive thinking would only make it worse. 

Deciding to slip back into reality, she finally realized the wagon had stopped, and the driver was staring back at her expectantly. She hesitated at first, as things still weren’t registering as quick as they normally did and once they did, she apologized profusely whilst slipping off the wagon. She hadn’t realized how much her legs hurt… or her butt for that matter. How long had she been sitting? Never mind… She needed a drink.

The Bee and Barb was a welcome sight once Zemfira entered the city, and despite its shady inhabitants, she missed it. Upon entering the building, she made a beeline for the bar keep, only to be intercepted by an understandably worried man.

Marcurio.

“Zemfira?!” He spoke in an uncharacteristic tone. There was a distinct lack of the usual snark.

“Marcurio?” She said, confused. It didn’t register with her that she had been gone longer than deemed normal by Marcurio. “I was only gone a few days…”

“Your weapons were found next to a dead dragon.” He deadpanned.

Zemfira immediately looked down at her waist and noticed the lack of weapons, it made her feel naked. “Oh.”

Marcurio sighed, pulling her matching battle axes out of a nearby satchel. “You’re lucky I saved them for you.”

Zemfira immediately took them and looked at them as if they were her own children, they have served her well in a number of situations. She might’ve even muttered ‘I missed you’ under breath.

Marcurio frowned, any hint of worry disappeared, “A thank you would be nice.”

Zemfira responded in kind, “I don’t see you saving me from bandits.”

“I feel my kindness running dry… that’ll be 100 gold for having the privilege of I, Marcurio, babysit your toys.”

“Toys?! How about I pay you for the privilege of hacking off your stupid head” She threatened, raising one of the axes.

“You know what, I’ve changed my mind but don’t expect this kindness in the future.” He said backing down. His tone shifted again, revealing his concern for the dragonborn. “You look like hell… Let me buy you a bottle of mead.”

...

“So now that you’ve finished both our mugs of mead, why don’t you tell me what happened?” Marcurio said in attempt to pry out a response for the millionth time. 

“I-“Zemfira hesitated, “I just decided to go for a walk…”

Marcurio quirked a brow “Right. Because all people who simply ‘go on a walk’ slay a dragon, abandon their things, and then disappear without a word.”

“You really pissed me off” 

“You’re joking right?” He said unamused, “I highly doubt one of our typical squabbles is to blame”

Zemfira shrugged… Maybe it was best to tell the truth. After all, she really had no intention of obeying, and if they did go after her, she would be expecting it at the very least.

“Marcurio. I-“ She hesitated again. Was it a good idea? The feeling of being watched came over her. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea… but he deserved to know. Zemfira opened her mouth to speak again but immediately shut it. The truth might get him killed… he was innocent in the whole ordeal. Marcurio looked at her, expecting her to finish the sentence. Maybe she should at the very least show up… “I have to go.”

Zemfira stood up and quickly walked out of the inn before giving Marcurio the chance to speak. She felt bad, leaving him without an explanation, he deserved it but ignorance was the best route for him. She herself, could barely handle the inner turmoil she was burdened with right now. She wasn’t a murderer, yet she is fated to become one. It didn’t settle right with her. 

The walk to the sanctuary was long and boring, not mention it was starting to kill Zemfira’s feet. Also, she may or may not be lost. Why didn’t she take a cart again? Ugh. Tired and frustrated, Zemfira looked for a spot alongside the road to settle for the night. Perhaps a night of rest would clear her mind.

Upon finding a good spot, Zemfira searched the area for any threats and quickly settled on the ground against a tree. She removed her shoes, and soon realized just how long she had been walking, her feet were worn and blistered, making her regret not stopping sooner or taking a cart for that matter. Sigh. It was too late now. Leaning against the tree in defeat, Zemfira closed her eyes, barely noticing the sound of moving water. How had she not noticed it before? Standing back up, Zemfira grabbed what she had dropped on the ground beside her and walked towards the noise. Within one hundred feet was a large stream, which immediately excited her.

Oh, glorious water. How she wanted to put her feet into it.

Feeling a bit renewed, Zemfira happily dashed towards the water. She didn’t stop until her items were tossed on the bank and she was standing in water up to her knees. The flowing water felt so good on her worn body. Perhaps a quick dip in the river was a good idea. Zemfira waded back up to the bank and began unbuckling her steel armor. Having stripped down to nothing but her breeches and loose fitting shirt, the lack of weight on her body brought even more relief to her. 

Hands moving up to remove her top, she quickly stopped and turned around all because of a sudden urge. Greeting her vision was the one person she dreaded coming face to face with the most, and in one quick movement, she grabbed his collar and forced him underwater. The sudden wave of anger was overwhelming as it clouded her judgement and made the urge to drown him even more tempting. He got her in the mess in the first place and without much though she held him there. The mysterious woman didn’t seem to like him very much so perhaps she would be forgiving if he were to die by Zemfira’s hand.

Wait-

This was wrong. A sudden wave of guilt washed over her as she watched him thrash madly, desperate for air. So, with the inability to handle a guilty conscious, she roughly pulled him out and up onto the river bank. 

“You’re lucky I am better than an assassin” She grumbled, laying back on the grass next to him with a sigh of defeat. 

“Cicero is confused- First you want to kill poor old Cicero… Then you let him live!” He said weakly, as he was still coughing up water.

“You should have killed me.” She sighed, “We’d both be better off.”

“Mother wouldn’t like that very much!” He immediately protested, “She’d be angry if anyone killed you!”

“Why are you here?” Zemfira glared at him with annoyance.

“The pretender sent Cicero to ensure you would obey” Cicero sat up and folded his legs. 

“Well I’m coming! Tell her I will be there when I feel like it!” 

“She wouldn’t like that very much…”

“Then tell her she’ll have to drag me there fighting the whole way.” Zemfira snapped, having zero patience with Cicero or anyone for that matter. “Just go away.”

“Oh Dragonborn! Why do you act so calloused towards poor poor Cicero!” He whined.

Zemfira groaned, giving him no response. She whole-heartedly wished he would disappear, and yet he remained. Everything about him was getting on her nerves and so, in an attempt to make him disappear, she rolled over and hoped he would get the message.

Oh, boy was he thick in the head.

The sudden feeling of another body close to her own more than startled her. The hand on her shoulder and the hot breath on her ear made it even worse. 

“Poor old Cicero is getting tired of the Dragonborn’s games.” He whispered in irritation “Please, _please_ come along.”

“No.” 

“Oh Dear…. Wrong answer!” He squealed, grabbing Zemfira by the arms and dragging her back towards the road. 

“HEY!” She shouted, kicking violently “I will go when I feel like it! Tell the woman to have some patience!”

“Sorry~! Cicero won’t let the pretender have her way!”

“Which is?”

“Dead!” He said, still dragging Zemfira.

Zemfira immediately ceased her resistance, “So you’re saying she rather have me dead?”

“Yes!”

“Well then I guess we better go then!” Zemfira gave into defeat, enthusiastically too. While it wasn’t her original desire, if she couldn’t find a way to spite Cicero without jeopardizing her life (She might’ve considered getting mauled by a bear), spiting the woman was the second-best option. She would have other opportunities to escape.

Sensing no ulterior motives, Cicero released her and (cautiously) allowed the dragonborn to gather her items and follow him. Much to her delight, there was a horse waiting for her, perhaps cooperating was the best option after all…


End file.
